Shield of God
by Lilith-d'Eden
Summary: This fic explores Castiel's musings on his purpose, the complexity and beauty of the human soul, and Sam. I guess you could say this is a sastiel piece, though it's not porny. There's a tad of fluff, but this isn't really a romantic fic.


Castiel regarded Sam Winchester's sleeping figure calmly. The hunter's face conveyed a peacefulness only present during slumber. The angel listened to Sam's measured breathing, admiring the measured expansion and contraction of Sam's Enochian-etched rib cage, and found himself transfixed on the gentle face which normally held so much grief and anger. A piece of his long hair was slowly falling across his face, provoked by the steady rise and fall.

It was remarkable to the angel that one named _abomination_ by Heaven and Hell could exude such innocence. At one time, Castiel would have smote Sam Winchester without hesitation at the command of his superiors. But now...things were different. Rather, Castiel was different.

He had first ventured to Earth with a sense of certitude. He was called Castiel - "Shield of God" in Hebrew - for a reason. It was his duty, his purpose, even, to carry out his superiors' orders. After all, their will was the Will of the Father. He would walk among humans so that he might communicate with the Righteous Man, Dean Winchester, who, though the true vessel of the archangel Michael, could not understand Castiel's true voice. He felt a sense of disdain for the creatures of Earth, God's "greatest" creation, Man. Humans were simple beings who must surely comply with the will of the angels. However, this was before he met the Winchesters.

The lock of hair had finally come to rest, falling awkwardly across Sam's face. Castiel reached down to gently tuck it behind the sleeping man's ear.

The first thing Castiel had learned about humans was that they were not naturally inclined to obey the will of angels. In fact, Dean Winchester was skeptical towards the existence of angels before he met Castiel. Even after becoming acquainted, Castiel was surprised to discover that Dean did not actually like the idea of working to fulfill God's Will and was extremely vocal on the subject.

Castiel's fingertips lingered behind Sam's ear, just barely touching the hunter's hair. He removed his hand when Sam gave a quiet grunt, furrowing his brow slightly. He rolled onto his back, then seemed to decide that he had been more comfortable on his side, and shifted so that he faced the angel once more.

Besides his headstrong character, Dean was as Castiel had predicted. Though obviously more complicated than the static description the angel had gleaned from his superiors in Heaven, Dean's soul, which Castiel could choose to view via a more abstract plane than that inhabited by human bodies, was as he had imagined. Beautiful, of course, it held a brilliant inner light. It was imperfect, but that was to be expected. Dean Winchester lived a painful existence, after all. Still, his righteousness and divine purpose tended to mask the darker parts of his soul, reflecting Dean's strong will to persevere, as well as his (unhealthy) tendency to suppress his feelings in favor of the task at hand.

Dean's brother, on the other hand, was nothing like Castiel had anticipated.

Sam Winchester believed in angels.

As the angel watched the hunter sleep, he tread softly, unnoticed, through Sam's dreamscape. Where Sam's subconscious began to manifest itself negatively, Castiel altered it, replacing grief with joy, pain with peace. Castiel felt justified in assuring that the hunter's dreams were untroubled. Sleep was the only time when Sam could truly be free of the burden of reality.

Castiel had come to Earth having, as with Dean, a transparent understanding of Sam Winchester. Sam was an abomination; in the hunter's own words, a _freak_. He was a man born into the life of a hunter, corrupted by Azazel, destined to be ridden by Lucifer. His continued existence meant the return of the Devil and the arrival of the Apocalypse. Sam Winchester was unnatural, wrong, and evil. Castiel claimed his vessel and sought out the Winchesters feeling confident in his limited understanding of Sam. As humans do daily, the angel made the mistake of assuming that humanity exists in terms of black and white, evil and good.

Castiel withdrew from Sam's dreams. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he studied the hunter's soul as he had done countless times before.

Unlike Dean, Sam's soul was like nothing Castiel had imagined. While it didn't shine so brilliantly as its brother, it was constantly in motion, and much more complex. Castiel likened it to an atom. Revolving like electrons around its periphery, several minuscule dots of light traveled through a black haze, thick and suffocating. The soul's nucleus, thus shrouded, shone dully, steadily pulsating. Though the general aura was dark, the soul's brilliance lay within the nucleus. Its inner beauty was dazzling, glittering and deep as the night sky.

He knelt beside Sam's bed with a reverence evocative of prayer.

Castiel had been so terribly wrong about Sam. About everything.

Castiel relaxed his brow and rested a hand on the hunter's head.

Each human soul was like its own galaxy: vast, complex, and breathtaking.

As he slowly stroked Sam's soft hair, he leaned in close to the hunter, breathing in his scent.

Sam Winchester was living proof of the shades of gray that characterized humanity.

With practiced tenderness, Castiel closed his eyes and softly kissed Sam's cheek.

He was no abomination. He was human and beautiful.

Sam's eyes opened blearily at the light contact. The smile that lit his face upon recognizing his angel spurred a swelling joy and awe within Castiel that was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced.

Castiel had decided long ago that he was on the side of the humans. Wherever his Father was, his Will did not rest with the angels in Heaven.

Sam placed a hand on either side of Castiel's face, pulling him close to kiss him.

Reflecting on his name, Castiel found that the meaning was no longer well-placed given his Earthly allegiance.

The hunter sat up and shifted to make room for his angel, who was rid of clothing in an instant.

He was no Shield of God...

Castiel snuggled close to his hunter, planting gentle kiss after gentle kiss on his face.

Sam pulled back so that he could look at his angel's face in the dim light.

He smiled, stroking Castiel's cheek with his thumb.

"Cas."

Looking into Sam's eyes, Castiel smiled.

...more of a Shield of Man.


End file.
